Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Thailand and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Bobby Womack,
John Cale,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gap Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Moss Icon,
Rapeman,
Bluetip,
Leonard Cohen,
Joyce Sims,
Make Up,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arthur Verocai,
Thee Headcoats,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Dead C,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Reed,
Cymande,
Arcadia,
Theoretical Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Anakelly,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Sherman,
Babytalk,
Camouflage,
The Litter,
Alice Coltrane,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maurizio,
Gabor Szabo,
Nico,
Archie Shepp,
Althea and Donna,
Radiohead,
Gichy Dan,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Camberwell Now,
MDC,
The Leaves,
Slave,
Stetsasonic,
Swans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
David Bowie,
The Slits,
Wings,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
Youth Brigade,
48th St. Collective,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.